The Strange Temple on Monkey Hill

Three figures. The Three Pure Ones. Supreme deities of the Taoist pantheon. White, red, black. 

Monkey Hill - also called Telegraph Hill - on the outskirts of Phuket Old Town is so named because the forests on the slopes are infested with vicious, invasive, rabid monkeys. Lest tourists find them cute, signs along the steep three kilometer track to the summit warn walkers that the monkeys are dangerous and not to feed or go near to them. The present author – getting into shape for a forthcoming tour of the Wudang mountains in China – made the trek up the hill recently, dodging marauding packs of monkeys (and stray dogs) all the way.

At one of the stopping points on the journey up the hill is one of the strangest and most eclectic temples the author has yet witnessed. Its official name is Po Ta To Sae. It defies categorization. It is clearly a Chinese shrine in its structure and organization, and in that, it is Taoist (or Chinese folkish) rather than Boodhist since it contains few images of the Boodha or other signs typical of Boodhism. There are the usual altars and the usual offerings, along with large supplies of joss for devotees. But rather than the usual cult images such as one finds in other Chinese temples throughout Phuket Town, Po Ta To Sae features unusual images and strange iconography which, incongruously, seems to have Mohammadan associations. The temple itself is guarded by an excessive array of tiger figures, and small shrines are dotted throughout the forest on one side of the main building. One of these shrines features an image of Christ, but this again is in a Mohammadan context or with Mohammadan associations. What, exactly, is going on here? one wonders. Who is being venerated, and as what, and why? There are few guiding clues, no useful signs, and the attending staff only speak Thai. 

Most Chinese temples are guarded by tiger figures. In this case there is a profusion of tigers all throughout the temple and lined up along the road. 






Examples of the very eclectic iconography found in the various side shrines. 

The figures on the main altar are the strangest. Upon inquiry, and some subsequent research, one is informed that they are – apparently – personfications of the three colours red, white and black. They are marked such in Thai, but each of them is also marked with a Mohammadan hilal, which is to say the Islamic symbol of crescent and star. Or so it seems. See thus:

The three figures on the main altar: Red, White and Black. Each marked with the Mohammadan crescent and star. 

All the same, they are worshipped as gods in the usual Chinese manner, as we see in the picture below, with a young woman offering prayers with joss sticks:

This Mohammadan symbolism is also found in the accompanying shrines. In this small shrine near the road, for instance:

Here we seem to have a Chinese deity - one of the Three Pure Ones? -, flecked with gold, wearing, it seems, a Muslim prayer hat and again marked with the Muslim symbol of crescent and star. 

The colour symbolism, however, is distracting. In fact, the three figures are - or so the present author is led to surmise - the Three Pure Ones of the Taoist pantheon - the supreme gods of Taoism. In previous posts we noted the popularity of the Eight Immortals in Chinese iconography and spiritual symbolism. Here we find the Three Pure Ones - the Primordial Heavenly Worthy, the spiritual Treasure Heavenly Worthy and the supreme Way Heavenly Worthy. They are celestial (heavenly) figures who have a higher status than the Eight Immortals. The full significance of the colour symbolism is unclear to this author, although he notes that the three colours - red, white and black - feature in the European alchemical tradition and are likely to have an alchemical significance here too. In other renderings, the Three Pure Ones are associated with the three primary colours, red, blue and yellow. Why each figure is marked with the star and crescent - and whether this is intended to have a Mohammadan association or not - is unclear. 

As noted, one of the shrines, far from the road, includes an image of Christ. As attentive readers will notice, the image of Christ is accompanied by a calligraphy bearing the name ‘Mohammad’ in Arabic, along with an image of an unidentified Muslim sage - or is it the Sihk's Guru Nanak? The latter possibility would make some sort of sense, in which case we have: 1. Jesus, 2. Mohammad, 3. Guru Nanak, representing the three religions Christianity, Islam, Sihkism. (The author, by the way, was obliged by the rules to take off his shoes to access this shrine, and then had to walk across an area strewn with broken glass. He literally walked over broken glass for these pictures!)

It is, frankly, most strange. It is worth noting, though, that the main temple in Phuket Town – also the oldest – includes some Mohammadan calligraphies in the context of far more orthodox Taoist symbolism, so it would appear that some elements of Taoist/Islamic syncretism are a feature of the Phuket Chinese tradition. Even so, the temple on Monkey Hill offers an extremely unusual blend of iconography and calls for a fuller explanation. The most likely explanation would seem to be that the shrine is sacred to the Three Pure Ones of Taoism, and that since these three are supremely lofty they are above, and therefore subsume under them, all other divine figures. Accordingly, the accompanying shrines include figures from all other religions, each of them subservient to the Three Pure Ones. 

The Tao produced One; One produced Two; Two produced Three; Three produced All things. 

- Tao Te Ching

Yours,

Harper McAlpine Black

Eight Immortals and the Imaginal

The Eight Immortals, figurines on a mantel in a Chinese private residence. 

The octagon, the number eight and the symbolism thereof features throughout Chinese spirituality. This eightfold symbolism takes both abstract (which is to say geometric) and iconographic (pictorial) forms. On a visit to any Taoist temple one will be surrounded by examples of each at every turn. Octagonal patterns and architectural features – such as octagonal windows – abound, and various groupings of eight are to be found on the altar and throughout the temple decorations. As noted in a previous post on this subject (see here) the most basic signification of this preponderance of eightfold symbolism is essentially alchemical. There is no religious tradition more overtly alchemical than that of Taoism; Taoist symbology is replete with alchemical themes and motifs. The octagon – and by extension all parallelisms of the number eight – signify regeneration. In the plain figure of the octagon – to explain it in its simplest terms - we see the square (earth) regenerating into the circle (heaven). In this sense it is preeminently number of the third term in the Great Triad of Chinese spiritual philosophy: man.

The present author has encountered this profusion of eightfold symbolism everywhere he goes in his journeys through the historic centres of the Malacca straits Chinese. Every temple, every clan house, and also every shop and private dwelling is marked by symbols of eight. Two orders of symbols are especially conspicuous: the eight trigrams of the I Ching, and the eight immortals of the Taoist pantheon. These feature in temples, but are also found on the mantels of private houses, over doorways, or in personal insignia. These are the two great instances of orders of eight in typical Taoist symbolism. Accordingly, they are often set in parallel. The eight trigrams are abstract and mathematical. The eight immortals are figures of fantastic mythology. One trigram belongs to each immortal and one immortal belongs to each trigram. 

The eight trigrams

The immortals call for a few extra comments. As a set they represent the following polarities: Male/Female, Old/Young, Rich/Poor, Noble/Humble. Their significance can be seen in the ‘Bridge of the Immortals’ display at the oldest of the Chinese temples in the old trading port of Phuket Town. The bridge illustrates four immortals on each side, and together they represent the bridge between mortal life and the immortal state which is the objective of Taoist spirituality. 

Four on each side of the bridge, the eight immortals are depicted seated on clouds. Clouds, in this context, signify the imaginal realm. The immortals are figures of the imaginal.  

That is, this symbol – the bridge – informs us, quite clearly, that the traditional hagiographies of the eight immortals, along with their accompanying iconography, is a body of knowledge that forms a bridge from one state to the other. The immortals – all of whom are supposed to have once been mortals, and all of whom attained immortality through various techniques or adventures which are the stuff of folklore and legend - are exemplars, paradigms of the Taoist path albeit rendered into fantastic forms. In other respects, they are the embodiment of the primal forces encapsulated in the eight abstract trigrams of the I Ching. 

The Eight Immortals are sometimes shown on a checkered floor, invoking, amongst other things, the (8 x 8) symbolism of the chessboard.

This symbolism, that is to say, spans from pure mathematical abstraction to the most fecund, elaborate folk mythology which needs to be understood as imaginal in the Corbinian sense. That is, the immortals are figures of the intermediate or imaginal realm. They are not gods in the fully celestial sense. They are mortals who have ascended to the imaginal world, usually symbolised by clouds (whereas the fully celestial realm is symbolized by stars.) Like imaginal figures in other traditions, they are often said to be still alive on earth or to visit earth in bodily form from time to time. The imaginal is of great importance in Taoist spirituality. Just as it is the most directly alchemical religious tradition, so Taoism is the most directly imaginal. It is a strongly visual tradition with an emphasis upon spiritual imagination. The group of Eight Immortals are the main denizens of the Taoist imaginal realm. 

The most popular depiction of the Eight Immortals in Chinese sacred art has them at sea, travelling by boat to the Conference of the Peach. Imaginal figures - beings of the imaginal realm - let us note, are invariably associated with the airy and watery elements. 

The Eight Immortals decorating the awning of a Chinese temple. 

The Eight immortals - postage stamps of Thailand.

The Eight Immortals as superheroes - from the Singaporean TV series. 

________________________________

Below, the pictures of the eight immortals are matched to the trigrams of the I Ching according to the customary arrangement. There is an elaborate folklore connected to each figure, and every motif in that folklore is explicable in terms of alchemical symbolism. To decode it, though, is a ponderous undertaking - it is a subject for later posts. Only the barest outlines are offered below. 

* * * 

LAN TSAI-HO 

A 'Holy Fool' figure and so directly cognate with the 'Fool' in the Tarot cards of the Occidental tradition. He became an immortal when he was sixteen years old. He represents the pure yang power - the phallic energy of spring. 

* * * 

HO HSIEN-KU 

Pure yin. She became an immortal at fourteen years old after eating the Peach of Immortality and ascending to heaven in full daylight. She attained the power of stopping her menses and thus conserving her feminine energy. Associated with herbs and healing, she is able to live of heavenly dew and pure chi. 

* * * 

ZHONGLI QUAN

Often counted as the chief of the Eight immortals, he is usually shown as fat bellied and scantily dressed. He was formerly an army general who took up residence as a hermit in a mountain cottage. One day, a stone wall in his dwelling collapsed, revealing a jade box that contained instructions on attaining immortality. During a great famine her transmuted copper and pewter into gold and silver to give to the poor. 

* * * 

LU TUNG-PIN 

Known to the Chinese as 'Ancestor Lu'. A friend to the poor and oppressed, he was a Confucian scholar who attained the secrets of immortality, lived 400 years on earth and reappears from time to time. 

* * *

CHANG KUO-LAO 

An old man and hermit. After he died and was buried, his coffin was found to be empty. He assists souls to reincarnate, so the Chinese place his image in bedrooms to help with the conception of children. 

* * *

HAN HSIEN-KU

He was expelled from a Boodhist temple for being rude and rowdy, but studied the Taoist arts and attained immortality. He was shown the top of the World Tree, fell from it but quickly revived himself. He carries a flute upon which he plays the Six Healing Sounds of Taoism. 

* * * 

TSAO KUO-CHIU 

One of two brothers, he was so ashamed that his brother was a murderer and a hedonist that he retired from the world to live as a hermit. One day, he met two of the immortals who were so impressed with his learning they invited him to join them. He plays casanets in a gentle rhythm wherever he goes. He is believed to still live on earth among mortals. 

* * * 

LI TIEH-KUAI 

Called 'Iron Crutch'. A beautiful but vain youth, his soul temporarily departed from his body but when it returned his disciples had cremated his body. He therefore occupied the form of a lame beggar who hobbles with an iron crutch. Cognate to various figures in European folklore and mythology and such figures as the lame smithy god Hephaestus in Greek mythology. Accordingly, his trigram is the element Fire. 

Yours,

Harper McAlpine Black

Some Notes on Islam & the Chinese Tradition

In most translations of Mohammedan works, such as the Koran, into Chinese, the name of God, Allah, is rendered by two Chinese characters meaning "True Lord".

* * * 

THE BIFURCATION OF THE CHINESE ORDER

In several short works, but specifically the essays in Insights into Islamic Esotericism & Taoism and Confucianism, Rene Guenon applies his usual clarity to the seemingly diverse religious phenomenon of both Islamic and Chinese civilization. This is of concern to the present writer as he makes his way through South-East Asia – specifically the Chinese areas of the Malay peninsula – and heads towards western China and the far end of the silk road. It is difficult to find even slightly useful reading material on the essential features of the traditions that converge in these regions. Guenon’s essays, as usual, are remarkable for their perspicuity, precision and authoritative insights. There are shortcomings in the Guenonian perspective, sure enough – a Masonic preoccupation with initiatory organizations and secret societies, for example – but it is always a relief to encounter his stern, unadorned, mathematical prose and to appreciate his utter indifference to sociological and other profane considerations. His disdain for Boodhism is refreshing too. 

When all is said and done Guenon deals with religious traditions as though through a series of geometrical models. These are sometimes simple and sometimes complex. In the present case – Islamic esotericism, or Soofism, on the one hand and the Chinese traditions, Taoism and Confucianism, on the other – the schema is relatively simple, at least in the first instance. It is an essential feature of Guenon that religions manifest both inner and outer dimensions. There is externalism – popular forms - and then there is the inner or esoteric – hidden or secret or elite - aspect of the tradition concerned. In comparing the Mohammedans with the Chinese, he proposes that there is an all-important contrast in the way these two dimensions, inner and outer, are arranged in each case. Leaving aside all the details and whatever complexities arise, this is the key to a Guenonian study of these traditions. 

In the Guenonian perspective, the Mohammedan order is concentric with the esoteric (tariqah) within the external casing of the Law (shariah). It is a model of kernel and protective shell. Thus:

But as Guenon explains, the Chinese order does not work in this way. Rather - for reasons that we need not discuss at present - the two spiritual functions, inner and outer, have been effectively bifurcated. Taoism is the esoteric function and Confucianism the external or exoteric function. Their relationship in the Chinese case is parallel rather than concentric. Thus:

This, for Monsieur Guenon, is what is crucial to appreciate about the nature of the Chinese tradition, especially in contrast to such a tradition as Mohammedanism. We should add that this model is quite separate to and distinct from the imposition of Boodhism upon the Chinese tradition. The model described here was established and settled long before Boodhism arrived in China. Boodhism adds nothing and takes nothing away from it. Often in modern studies the Chinese tradition as a whole is described as the 'Path of Three ways' - Taoism, Confucianism, Boodhism. But Boodhism, as Guenon insists, is not integral to the Chinese order. 

* * * 

THE ANALECTS & THE HADITH

The Prophet Mohammed said, "Seek knowledge, even if it is in China." 

There are some rather obvious parallels – at least in form – between the Analects of Confucius and the Hadith of Mohammed. In both cases we have short, pithy sayings and examples of word and deed as recorded by disciples and companions. And in both cases these records act as exemplars or patterns of behavior. The Hadith are the recorded words and deeds of the Prophet – supposedly – and they function to guide and shape all the patterns of Mohammedan life. They establish Mohammedan ethics as well as manners. The Prophet is True Man, the model for all men.

In the Chinese tradition this is exactly the function of Confucius. It becomes conspicuous to anyone who spends more than a little time among the Chinese, even in this day and age, that there is a common model, a common ideal, of behavior among them, and this ideal is set by Confucius. Confucius is the exemplar, the Master, the standard of all that is proper and correct. This is especially evident in the Analects which, indeed, take a form very much like the Hadith found in the Mohammedan tradition. Confucius is the True Man, and we learn of his deeds and words through the analects recorded by his immediate followers in the form “The Master said…” or “The Master did…” Moreover, the circumstances in which he lived as well as the disciples and people around him are regarded as paradigmatic. They set examples to be emulated by everyone thereafter. Thus do the (traditional) Chinese say “Confucius says…” and cite some analect or saying in exactly the same manner as Mohammedans habitually cite the Hadith with “The Prophet said…” Chinese life is textured in this way just as is the social life of the Mohammedans. It is a close parallel between the two traditions.

Anyone familiar with any of the Hadith (traditions) of Mohammed will recognize the form, if not the content, of the following examples of the traditions of Confucius:

The Master said: “When a country is well governed, poverty and a mean condition are shameful. When a country is poorly governed, wealth and honour and shameful.”

The Master said, “One should study as though there is not enough time and still feel fear of missing the point.”

The Master said: “In the morning hear the Tao. In the evening die content.”

The Master said, “I have yet to see a man who loved virtue as much as sex.”

The Master said, “There are shoots that never come to flower, and there are flowers that never bear fruit.”

Ji Wenzi always pondered matters thrice before acting. The Master heard of this and said, “Twice is enough.”

Though the Master’s meal was only greens and vegetable congee, he inevitably offered some in sacrifice, and always in ritual reverence.

When the Master was at home in his neighborhood, he was warm and courteous, and seemed as if he found it difficult to speak. In the ancestral temples or at court, he was articulate, his speech merely showing signs of caution.

When the Master was at leisure, his manner was relaxed and easy.

When sending his greetings to someone in another state, the Master would twice bow low as he sent the messenger off.

When mounting a carriage, the Master always faced it squarely and grasped the mounting cord. Once in the carriage, he did not turn to look at those standing behind him; he did not speak rapidly; he did not point.

The Master said, “Be devoted to faithfulness and love learning; defend the good Tao until death.”

The Master said, “Extravagance leads towards disobedience; thrift leads towards uncouthness. Rather than be disobedient, it is better to be uncouth.”

When the Master slept, he did not assume the position of a corpse. When at leisure, he did not ornament his dress.

The Master was vigilant about three things: fasting, war and illness.

When the stables burnt, the Master returned from court asking, “Was anyone hurt?” He did not ask after the horses.

The Master taught by means of four things: patterns, conduct, loyalty, faithfulness.   

* * * 

The concept of the One is not absent from Chinese thought. And the concept of the Nothing - a metaphysic of emptiness - is not absent from Mohammedan thought. The Confucian classics speak of “the all-pervading One” (i kuan) and Taoism refers to “holding onto the One” (shou i). The I Ching refers to “heavenly Oneness”. Unity of the absolute, in fact, is a constant theme in both Confucianism and Taoism. But, as Guenon notes, the bifurcation of functions within the Chinese order mean that the purely metaphysical and the personal never meet. Thus the Absolute is not usually presented as a “God” in the Semitic and occidental manner. The negative conception of the Tao is more like Aristotle’s unmoved mover, although in other respects it is, in function, like a creator. “The Tao produces the ten thousand things,” says the Tao Te Ching.

It is entirely possible to reconcile this with Mohammedan metaphysics. It is only externally that the Mohammedan deity is a personal god, or even a “god” at all. This is the contention of Toshihiko Izutsu’s powerful study, Sufism and Taoism, where he draws parallels between the Soofi metaphysics of Ibn Arabi and the metaphysics of the Tao. Despite Islam’s positive theology, in Soofism there are strong apophatic themes, and it is there that Mohammedanism may meet the temperamental preferences of the Far East. It is possible to read the confession of faith in an apophatic manner. The exclusive tribalism of “There is no god but (our) God” can be read, instead, as “There is no god. Only Allah.” Allah, in that case, is – like the Tao - beyond all conception, beyond personhood, too great to be any god of human understanding. The god of the externalists is an idol. Let us remember also that the Kabba in Mecca is empty. Finally, the only symbol that fits Allah – the Real - is nothingness.

* * * 

RAMADAN IN CONTEMPORARY CHINA

While Mohammedanism has a long presence in China – especially western China – the Chinese authorities are, very wisely, fully aware of its potential to disturb the equilibrium of Chinese society. Precisely because the Mohammedan model is different to that of the traditional Chinese, and there is no neat bifurcation of the religious and the social, it may – if one is not alert to the inherent dangers – operate as a political ideology under a religious cloak. In contemporary China, the authorities in Peking are understandably anxious to prevent this and are ever on guard against religious movements that act as political agents.

An acute issue amongst China’s Mohammedan communities is the fast of Ramadan. Every year the authorities are at pains to downplay and restrict the extent of the fast. This usually earns them the ire of so-called ‘human rights’ groups, but it is an entirely justifiable strategy in the context. In areas where Mohammedans obtain demographic density, the fast of Ramadan becomes a de facto political instrument. It enables the Mohammedans to completely close down an entire region, to completely disrupt the ordinary machinations of life, for an entire month. This becomes a very potent method for imposing Islamic control upon commerce and government.

Quite properly, the Chinese will have none of it. They have passed regulations insisting that all schools, transport and government services will continue as normal throughout Ramadan, and eateries and cafes must remain open too. People are free to fast if they wish – you cannot stop people from not eating or drinking – but Chinese Mohammedans will be prevented from disrupting services and normal social functions, from shutting down society, in the name of Ramadan. Far from being an abuse of ‘human rights’, this is a wise policy that should be adopted wherever pernicious and troublesome concentrations of Mohammedans exist. You can fast, but you cannot shut down civil society. The difficulty, always, when dealing with Mohammedan minorities is that the inner and the outer, the spiritual and the political, are almost impossible to separate. This, as the Guenonian model above illustrates, is in the very structure of Islam. 

Yours

Harper McAlpine Black

A Journey into Taoist Hell

Following poorly printed maps labelled in broken English and handed out by auto-rickshaw drivers at Thai flea markets is a hazardous undertaking at the best of times. The present author recently set out on a foot march through the suburbs of Trang - a Chinese city in southern Siam - following the instructions on one such map in search of a certain Chinese temple that he was assured was worth the journey. It proved to be a major undertaking.

Trang is not a particularly large city and is very orderly, but when you are not sure just where you are headed then it might as well be a sprawling labyrinth. After a few wrong turns you find yourself thoroughly lost, and since the road signs are all in Thai script there are few useful landmarks to help you on your way. Soon you are wandering aimlessly through industrial estates and semi-rural allotments. Moreover, setting out after lunch is a mistake in the 'Mad dogs and Englishman' category. The humidity starts to soar in the early afternoon. Rain clouds gather but no rain arrives; just an inpenetrable wall of humidity shimmering under the blazing sun. You go on regardless, though, and buy some water off a man on the roadside who, you think - if his hand signals are to be believed -, indicates that yes there is a temple, or something, somewhere on ahead. Eventually you decide that you'll give it five more minutes before turning around, and then - suddenly - as you come around a bend, there it is! Temple gates in the distance! It is a small miracle, and an ordeal, but you've made it!

* * * 

The temple in question is undoubtedly one of the strangest this author has seen in all his travels. It is sacred to the great Chinese war god Guan Yu who is honoured with a full-sized statue, along with his horse, just outside the temple portals. Thus:

The grounds of the temple are very colourful, with numerous small buildings and service structures with the whole space centred on a very tall and prominent dragon pillar, which indeed is the emblem of the temple as marked on the map the author has been following. The temple is known for this tall pillar. Thus:

The temple itself is large and spacious and features a dragon pool below the open aperture in the centre of the ceiling such that the pool and its dragons shine within the gloom of the space. Few other temples make such dramatic use of the light of the oculus. The effect is very pleasing, giving the whole a sort of mystical, luminous ambience. Dragon symbolism - always standard in any Chinese temple - is especially accentuated here, both in the grounds and in the temple, and it is done very well. Thus:

. 

Beyond the temple, through a side door, is an opening onto a quite extensive covered space with tables and chairs for dining. It is a space intended to accommodate a large congregation, especially during the famous Trang vegetarian festival each October during which crowds of Chinese travel from far and wide. It is perhaps relevant to this function, and to vegetarianism specifically, that at the far corner of the dining area is a small temple to the Hindoo deity Shiva. It is remarkable because it is entirely in the Hindoo style. Its whole iconography is Hindoo, an entirely Hindoo gesture within an otherwise completely Chinese temple complex. Thus:

The Shiva temple is the small building in the distance. Its function is directly related to the dining area. It is arranged, evidently, so that diners can easily access it.

None of this, however, prepares the visitor for a further section of the complex back towards the main gates and to the left. There is a small temple to Guanyin, the goddess of mercy, and a large statue to the laughing Boodha, Boodai - a great favvourite among the Chinese. But then, without warning, one encounters an outdoor garden scene that features a bridge and life-sized, lurid efigies of poor souls being tortured by a vicious demon. Thus:

Then, in a shelter beyond this - back out into the heat and following the pathway - you come to an extraordinary scene: an extensive, explicit diorama depicting the many tortures of Taoist hell in all their gruesome detail. It is an unexpected and arresting discovery. The author had been told the temple was worth the visit, and the tourist literature made much of the dragon pillar in the courtyard, but no one had mentioned a full-scale rendering of the torture chambers of the Chinese underworld in pornographic naturalism! Thus:

Some dozen explicit tortures are depicted. Here are a few:

Pounding

Bisection

Dismemberment

Bed of Nails

Eaten alive by Dogs

Wok fried

The agents of torture are feirce crazy-eyed chocolate-brown demons, each of them wearing tiger-skin underpants with tiger faces on their behinds. Thus:

Commanding the demons are the various ministers of hell. There are, firstly, the two guides to the Chinese underworld, Ox-Head and Horse-Face, who in this case are standing guard at one end of the display. By tradition these are the first beings the dead soul encounters after crossing the bridge into the Underworld. They carry pitch-forks and deliver the souls to the torture chambers where each soul is punished according to their failings and misdeeds. Here they are:

More menacing, though - and a successfully macabre feature of this particular display - are the two figures called the Heibai Wuchang, the black and white 'Ghosts of Impermanence'. They are watching on as the demons do their work. Here they are:

Images of these two ghouls also feature on the altar at one end of the display. Thus:

The purpose of the diorama, it is clear, is to remind visitors to the temple complex of the terrible purifications that await them in the afterlife as a consequence of their sins in this current life. The scenes are lurid and ghoulish in order to frighten and terrify.

Westerners very often have entirely sanitized views of Taoism - Boodhism too - and have a corresponding bleak and prejudiced view of the occidental traditions, and Catholicism in particular. They are surprised, even shocked, to find that the eastern religions have such graphic and violent depictions of a terrible afterlife. ("I thought terrifying people with tales of hellish torment was the stuff of the medieval Church. Alan Watts never mentioned this!") 

In reality, Taoism - by which we mean popular, practical, religious Chinese Taoism and not the secularized philosophical version, or coffee shop Taoism, known in New Age circles - proposes a complex afterlife featuring purifying tortures prior to reincarnation. Numerous Taoist texts describe the hell-realms and their denizens and the torments thereof in shocking detail. They are a commonplace in Chinese folklore. To a great extent this has been appropriated into Taoism from Boodhist descriptions of the 'Naraka' (realms of punishment) since - contrary to Western misunderstandings - Boodhism too has conceptions of otherworldly punishments every bit as grisly as any ever imagined in Catholicism. 

Indeed, the present author can think of no depictions of the torments of hell in Christian art - not even in Heironymous Bosch or Dante - that are quite as graphic and quite as extreme as these. The diorama at Trang illustrates the perverse depths of the oriental religious imagination. A journey to this temple - the Guan Yu temple on the northern outskirts of Trang - is worth the effort just for this. It is a sobering and confronting reminder of a dimension of oriental religiosity about which many Westerners know nothing. Taoists, like Boodhists, are threatened with terrible punishments if they misbehave. The fact that hell is a temporary phase of the afterlife in the eastern traditions and not an eternal damnation as it is in the West is, in context, small comfort. 

Yours,

Harper McAlpine Black